


Ace and Jack

by masi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, brief ushioi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:11:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6261391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masi/pseuds/masi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi and Konoha are neighbors and teammates. Maybe friends too. They get along most of the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ace and Jack

**Author's Note:**

> The mature content in this fic is brief and mostly implied, but I've used a higher rating just in case. Thank you for reading!

Iwaizumi accidentally mentions Konoha’s name three times while he’s eating brunch with Oikawa, and then Oikawa is on his case immediately, persistently, regrettably. 

“Why’s it so weird that I mentioned him?” Iwaizumi asks, when the insinuations become too much. He squeezes the cup of espresso he is holding in his hand. “He’s on my team, and he’s a wing spiker too. We practice together. And he lives on my floor.”

“How charming,” Oikawa says, smiling. “Do you practice other things together on that floor?”

“Quit trying to change the subject, Crappykawa. Before you started asking me unnecessary questions, you and I were talking about how you’ve been overworking yourself again.”

“But, Iwa-chan, I much rather talk about Konoha Akinori, the cutie that makes you weak in the knees and spends just the right amount of time at practice. Unlike me.”

“I never said-”

“But how good is he at volleyball?” Oikawa props his chin up on one hand, blinks at Iwaizumi with his long eyelashes. “Is he like you? Like Tobio? He wasn’t too famous when we were in high school, but things can change. Is your team going to beat mine this year?”

“He’s a reliable player who plays a sound, all-round game, and my team is going to kick your team’s ass when we have a match next month.”

“Does Konoha-kun like it when you use that rough tone, Iwa-chan?”

“You know, you haven’t mentioned Ushiwaka even once.” Iwaizumi lets go of his coffee cup and folds his arms. “I thought you were going to complain about him all day, but you haven’t said a word.”

Oikawa pouts as he protests, “But, Iwa-chan, you were the one who told me to stop talking about him! Remember, last weekend, when I was trying to tell you what he did when a sweet girl gave him a bouquet of flowers? Make up your mind please.”

Iwaizumi pushes his slice of coffee cake across the table to Oikawa. The cake bumps against Oikawa’s right hand, close to the elastic bandage wrapped tight around Oikawa’s wrist. 

“Finish it,” Iwaizumi says. “And we’re not going to talk about them anymore, Ushiwaka or Konoha. Did you go home recently? How’re the folks?”

“No, I haven’t gone yet. We should go together after our match.”

“Yeah.”

They lapse into a slightly uncomfortable silence as Oikawa eats the cake. Iwaizumi tries to think of something to say, but he’s already told Oikawa off for overdoing it at practice and slacking off in class. And he doesn’t want to talk about sentimental things like how he misses the rice fields in Miyagi, or how he still forgets sometimes and looks around the gym at his university wondering why Oikawa hasn’t showed up for practice, or how Hanamaki has been inviting him to go on group dates with him and Matsukawa for the past month but he always says no. 

He picks up his cup and chugs down the last of his espresso, which has gone cold. He looks at Oikawa. The midday sunlight is streaming in through the window next to their table, painting red lines into Oikawa’s brown hair, which is longer than it was when he saw Oikawa in Miyagi. That was in late March, before they left home. Oikawa is wearing a jacket Iwaizumi hasn’t seen before; close fitting, lots of shiny rose-gold colored buttons. Iwaizumi wonders if Oikawa has left all of his geeky alien sweatshirts at his parents’ house. 

It would be nice to go back to those days. A simpler time. Maybe they can go back to it when they’re older. They don’t and won’t need anyone else when they have each other. Romance is too much trouble anyway. They can live out their last days in a quiet house on the seaside, or in the woods. Fishing. Bird watching. Beekeeping. 

“Want to go see a movie?” Iwaizumi asks after Oikawa swallows the last of the cake and wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“Why not?” Oikawa says. He checks his phone. “Which movie?”

“There’s a new Star Wars or Star Trek or something, probably.”

“How generous of you, Iwa-chan! You usually don’t want to see those kinds of movies with me. But we can watch something you like this time because I’ve already seen a space movie with Ushiwaka-chan. It was the worst experience of my life. He spent the entire train ride back to our apartment building pointing out all the scientific errors in the film.”

Oikawa’s eyes are almost shining as he continues to describe all the ways in which Ushiwaka annoyed him on their train ride home. When he finally pauses, waiting for Iwaizumi’s input, Iwaizumi says, in his best Oikawa Tooru voice, “How annoying! How is it possible to be that annoying? What an annoying guy, that Ushiwaka!”

“I know you think I’m overreacting, Iwa-chan, but you really don’t know what I have to go through.” Oikawa sighs. “Are you feeling envious because you don’t have anyone to annoy you anymore? Why don’t you transfer to my university then?”

“No.”

“Well, at least come visit me from time to time. How about next weekend? I promise that Ushiwaka-chan and I will annoy you until you want to punch us both.”

“No,” Iwaizumi says. “Why would I waste a weekend that way?”

“Fine, but you have to visit the weekend after that.” Oikawa stands up and then comes around the table to pull Iwaizumi to his feet. “Let’s go see a movie, Iwa-chan.”

***

Iwaizumi is walking up the stairs that lead to his third-floor apartment when he sees Konoha on their veranda. Konoha lives in the first apartment, two doors away from Iwaizumi. Konoha is currently rattling his own doorknob and looking pissed. 

“What’s up,” Iwaizumi says. 

“Hey,” Konoha replies. “Do you still have that screwdriver you were using to assemble your desk?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Misplaced my keys.” He sighs. “That is, I got pissed off by something Komi said and dropped them right over a bridge and into a river. Could’ve happened to anyone.”

“Did you call the locksmith?”

“Nah. I can pick the lock myself, and I have a spare key inside. Do you have bobby pins?”

“No.”

“Guess I’ll have to ask another neighbor. Can you get that screwdriver? Thanks.”

Iwaizumi goes into his apartment to find the screwdriver. By the time he returns to the veranda, Konoha has managed to acquire a pair of bobby pins and is crouching down in front of his door. 

He sticks one of the pins into the lock. He pulls the ends of the other one apart, until the bobby pin is almost a straight line. He pushes this one gently into the lock a few times before taking it out again to work with the one stuck inside. He uses the screwdriver last, to turn the lock.

Konoha is frowning as he works. His long bangs flop over his eyes as he moves his head. His blond hair is almost gleaming in the dark.

“There,” Konoha says when the lock clicks open. He stands up and flashes Iwaizumi the peace sign with his long fingers.

Iwaizumi swallows before saying, “Nice.” His voice sounds more hoarse than usual. “You’re a man of many talents, huh?”

Konoha scowls and looks Iwaizumi over once before he says, “Well. That’s one way to put it. Call me when you need to break into anything.”

Iwaizumi laughs, startling Konoha, who seems almost pleased with himself then, his narrow eyes narrowing further as he smiles.

“’Night,” Iwaizumi says. He holds out his hand for the screwdriver.

Konoha hands it to him and says “see you at practice” in an easy, cool way that Iwaizumi likes.

It’s okay to have a crush, Iwaizumi reminds himself as he walks into his tiny apartment. Konoha is a cool guy. He’s showed Iwaizumi around Tokyo (well, the important places, like two fast food restaurants and the nearest coin laundry, and then Konoha seemed to run out of energy, went back home). He also spent a whole day helping Iwaizumi assemble a desk. He’s easy to talk to, and he talks about his friends, Bokuto in particular, with a mixture of fondness and exasperation that Iwaizumi gets.

As long as he’s not checking Konoha out at practice, things are good.

***

Konoha bumps into him at practice on Friday, when they’re both jumping up to block a hard spike, and they end up on the floor, Konoha sprawled on top of him. They’re about the same height, so there’s a lot of Konoha pressing down on Iwaizumi. And Konoha is heavier than Iwaizumi thought. And his thigh feels more muscular than it looks, sandwiched between Iwaizumi’s legs. 

So much for not checking him out at practice, Iwaizumi reflects, and tries to think about disgusting things to make his boner go away.

“Sorry,” Konoha says. His knee brushes against Iwaizumi’s crotch as he gets up. Iwaizumi closes his eyes.

He feels Konoha’s fingers close around his arm a moment later, and then Konoha hauls him to his feet.

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi says.

Konoha looks at his own hand on Iwaizumi’s forearm and then his gaze travels up farther, as does his hand. Iwaizumi is burning up under his jersey. He holds his breath.

But, just before the tips of Konoha’s fingers reach the biceps, Konoha releases him, abruptly, and says, “Back to practice, I guess. I’ll try not to bump into you.”

“Right,” Iwaizumi says.

***

He was expecting things to be a little tense between them after practice, but nothing happens. Konoha heads off to meet up with Bokuto, and Iwaizumi goes home to work on numerous frustrating problem sets. The next morning, Konoha greets him in his usual casual way when they meet on the veranda and hands him a flyer that advertises a cable company.

“You work for them?” Iwaizumi asks. He needs to start searching for a part time job himself, for the summer at least.

“Nah.” Konoha points to a small cardboard box containing more flyers just inside his apartment. “My cousin does. She gave me these last weekend and then showed up an hour ago, demanding to know why I haven’t finished giving them out. Says I have to do it today. I told her that my arms are aching from practicing with Bokuto for hours last night, but she said I’m being lazy. Family, you know.”

He picks up another flyer and then folds it into an airplane, slowly, taking too much time when creasing the paper. Then he launches the plane into the air. It floats halfway over to Iwaizumi before dropping to the floor.

“Damn,” Konoha says.

Iwaizumi folds his own flyer. His plane makes it over to Konoha, no problem. He watches Konoha pluck the plane out of the air.

“Neat,” Konoha says. “Want to make planes out of the rest of them?” He opens his door wider. “You can come in, you know.”

Iwaizumi looks inside. There’s a 20 inch TV near Konoha’s bed, along with a PS3, two controllers, and a stack of games. The last time Iwaizumi played a video game was on New Year’s Day. Oikawa came over in the afternoon and complained for hours after Iwaizumi beat him in _Marvel Vs. Capcom 3_.

Iwaizumi says, “I’m going to get lunch. I’d ask you to come, but you have flyers, so.”

“I can do these later.” Konoha smiles. “What are you afraid of? That I’ll kick your ass in Street Fighter?”

“I could kick your ass in Street Fighter in my sleep,” Iwaizumi says, and walks in.

“That’s the spirit,” Konoha says.

He beats Iwaizumi in their first round by a close margin. Iwaizumi beats him in the three rounds after that by just smashing all the buttons at once while Konoha tries to do fancy combos. Then Iwaizumi completes a mandatory timed race in _Assassin’s Creed II_ that was giving Konoha trouble for months. He’s more worked up after that than he should be, adrenaline coursing through his veins, his heart close to his throat, his head telling him to go for it. 

Go for what? He’s sitting too close to Konoha, he realizes, their thighs and ankles almost touching underneath Konoha’s kotatsu. He’s not sure that trying to kiss Konoha would be a wise thing to do. He doesn’t want to mess things up between them. Coming here was a mistake. He’s the one who is a dumbass, not Oikawa, who should never hear of this because then Iwaizumi would never hear the end of it.

“Hey, want to get lunch?” Konoha asks.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, getting up quickly. 

He’s turned red, he notices in the hall mirror, and Konoha is looking at him. He clears his throat and points to the flyers. “What about those?” he asks. 

“Later,” Konoha says, and then, “You should come by more often. Because I have more games that I need you to beat for me.” He smiles. His eyes almost close with that smile.

Iwaizumi looks away. He can’t remember the last time he was this into someone. Having a crush on this guy is the worst thing that has ever happened to him.

***

A week after that, on another bright Saturday morning, they go to a public gym together. Konoha keeps up on the treadmill for about half an hour before slowing down considerably. Then he gets down and starts wandering around the gym, trying out the weights, doing a few pull-ups, breathing Darth Vader-style with the yoga people. After that, he returns to the treadmills area and just watches Iwaizumi, who is glad that he rolled up his sleeves before he started running. And that he is wearing one of his shorter gym shorts. But he’s not so happy that Konoha seems to have given up.

“C’mon,” Iwaizumi says, “you can do fifteen more minutes.”

“Nah.” Konoha pushes his sweaty bangs off of his forehead. He looks Iwaizumi up and down. “I think I like where I am.”

“Where are you?” Iwaizumi asks. “On the sidelines, taking a break? We have to show the seniors that we’re serious, or we’ll be benchwarmers forever.”

Konoha frowns. “Hey,” he says, “are you saying that I slack off at practice?”

“No, you’re alright at practice.”

Shut up stop right there, a part of Iwaizumi’s brain says. He’s not sure why he has started lecturing Konoha. They don’t have that kind of relationship, and there’s no reason they should.

But he keeps going. He says, “It’s the other things.”

“Like what?” Konoha says, the edge in his voice sharper now.

“You start things, several different things simultaneously, and then you can’t complete most of them. Like now. Those flyers too. Your cousin had to yell at you before you finished passing those out.” 

Konoha glares at him. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Mom.”

“I’m not your mom,” Iwaizumi says.

“Right, you’re Seijou’s ace.” Konoha grabs a towel and puts it over his head. “Guess I’m just not as good as you Seijou guys! Sorry I’m not more like your Oikawa.”

“No one can be like Oikawa.”

“I have to go now,” Konoha says, and then he leaves. 

Iwaizumi mutters, “Fuck.” 

He increases the speed of the treadmill, runs faster, runs until Konoha’s angry, almost hurt words stop echoing in his ears, until he can only hear his heartbeat thudding, until he can push back the longing to go after Konoha and tell him that what he really meant to say, what he really wants Konoha to be serious about, not leave hanging, unfinished, is…. Well.

Iwaizumi gets off the treadmill. His legs ache. It doesn’t feel as good as it usually does.

*** 

Ushiwaka shows up at Oikawa’s apartment with a textbook and notebook in hand only one hour into Iwaizumi’s own visit there. Iwaizumi is not pleased.

“Oh, sorry, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, as Ushiwaka starts to unlace his sneakers. “Do you want me to send him away? You can do my calculus homework for me instead of him. You’re better at it anyway, right?”

Ushiwaka doesn’t seem fazed by Oikawa’s incredible rudeness, but he has paused, shoelaces looped around his fingers, and is looking at Iwaizumi as if asking for permission. Oikawa’s face is a smiling mask. Iwaizumi feels another flash of irritation. This day is only going to get worse from here on out.

But Ushiwaka isn’t the one to blame here, so Iwaizumi makes room for him at Oikawa’s kotatsu and says, “Do your own shitty homework, Oikawa.”

And then to Ushiwaka, “Hey, make him do his own homework, or he’s going to fail his exams and then his mom will get upset.”

“He’s talking about himself,” Oikawa says. He checks his hair in the full-length mirror behind his door. “Iwa-chan is my mom.”

Iwaizumi grabs a pillow off the bed and throws it at Oikawa’s head. It connects, mussing up Oikawa’s hair. Ushiwaka looks first at Oikawa and then at Iwaizumi, expression blank.

“Aren’t you going to sit down?” Oikawa asks Ushiwaka, frowning. “You’re taking up too much room.”

“I can come back later,” Ushiwaka says.

There is a brief pause, and a quick glance Iwaizumi’s way before Oikawa replies, “Suit yourself.”

Iwaizumi says goodbye to his dreams of living in a house in the woods with Oikawa. He really should have noticed the signs earlier. The pair of purple house slippers Ushiwaka is now wearing fits him perfectly. Oikawa’s jeans are tighter than the ones he wears when visiting friends. There’s a book about growing household plants on his bookshelf. He didn’t try half as hard for his ex-girlfriend in Miyagi.

“You’re into plants now?” Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa turns red.

“Indoor plants can create a healthy environment,” Ushiwaka says. “I have a few in my apartment.” He is silent for a moment, looking very serious, and then he adds, “Do you want one, Iwaizumi?” It sounds like an offer of friendship, or maybe an apology for firmly believing until recently that the only player worth anything from Aoba Johsai was Oikawa.

“Give him one for his friend Konoha too,” Oikawa says, smiling in the insincere way Iwaizumi hates. “Or does he have some already, Iwa-chan? Have you visited his apartment yet? Has he visited yours?”

“Shut up, Oikawa! That’s none of your damn business.”

He sounded harsher than he meant to, and Oikawa’s eyes widen. The smile falters. Iwaizumi feels guilty. Feels like he is back in Kitagawa Daiichi, his forehead still stinging where it had connected with Oikawa’s head.

“Sorry,” he says. “He came over once to help me build a desk. Not that it matters. I’ve visited him once.”

Oikawa says, softer and more affectionate, “That’s alright, Iwa-chan, the semester has barely started. You two have plenty of time to hang out. Hey, Ushiwaka-chan, Iwa-chan and I are going out for awhile, so I’ll study with you later, alright?”

“No, it’s fine,” Iwaizumi says. “You can come with us, Ushiwaka.” Sometimes being a friend means being a willing third wheel. He wants Oikawa to be happy.

But he’s going to make Oikawa pay for this later, Iwaizumi decides after two hours of being a spectator in Oikawa and Ushiwaka’s little romantic comedy. Ushiwaka’s meaningful silences and longing glances and Oikawa’s barbed but flirtatious comments are getting on Iwaizumi’s nerves. He tries his best to tune them out, but he’s unsuccessful. He feels bad for their teammates, until he remembers that he had to put up with Oikawa’s complaints and hang-ups about Ushiwaka for almost his entire life.

“You better not mess this up,” he says to Ushiwaka, during a brief reprieve. Oikawa is currently talking to a cashier, ordering smoothies for them.

“Mess what up?” Ushiwaka asks.

Iwaizumi considers saying something like “you ever make him cry, I’ll make you cry,” but it would probably sound too melodramatic. Besides, Oikawa is probably the one who’s going to make Ushiwaka cry. He says instead, in a low voice, “He’s too hard on himself sometimes. When he gets like that, tell him that he’s great as he is. That it’ll be okay. Because he is, and it will.”

Ushiwaka nods once.

Iwaizumi wants to explain more, but Oikawa is turning to look at them. He thinks that Oikawa might have overheard. He knows for sure later, when he’s saying goodbye at the stairs that lead to the train station and Oikawa says, “You know, Iwa-chan, I’ve done a little research on your friend Konoha. Did you know that his nickname is Jack of All Trades? What’s the saying? Jack of all trades, master of none? He hates it. He probably wants someone to tell him that he’s perfect the way he is. What do you think?”

“I think,” Iwaizumi begins angrily, but then he stops.

He remembers the way Konoha had looked at him that night when he had made that “man of many talents” comment. The way Konoha had said, “That’s one way to put it.” And then, their argument at the gym.

Iwaizumi squeezes Oikawa’s shoulder. Oikawa’s hair smells sweet and familiar. Iwaizumi wonders why he never calls him “Tooru.” They’ve grown up together. He knows the exact shape of Oikawa’s birthmark. He can read Oikawa’s different moods, usually, and the true intentions behind the excessive gestures and ridiculousness. What is he waiting for? For Oikawa to call him by his first name first? He’s been following Oikawa’s lead since they were kids, always reluctant and irritated, and then realizing some time later that he likes where he is.

“I hate it when you do that,” he says.

Oikawa frowns. “Do what?”

“Get into something new.”

Oikawa still looks puzzled, a question forming on his lips. Iwaizumi smiles. He says, “Take care of yourself.”

Oikawa says, “You too, Iwa-chan.” 

And then, unexpectedly, Oikawa reaches out and hugs him.

***

Konoha is pissed off all through practice on Monday, though he tries to hide it in front of the others. Iwaizumi knows better than to try to make up with him there. He waits until Konoha has left the gym that evening, and then he takes a shower, walks back to their building, and knocks on Konoha’s door instead of heading straight to his own apartment.

“Coming,” he hears Konoha say.

Iwaizumi runs a hand through his hair quickly. It’s sticking up as usual, short and bristly. At least it smells like shampoo instead of sweat. He pulls his pants up and then folds down the frayed edges. Oikawa was always wrinkling his nose at him whenever they had to go anywhere fancy with their families and Iwaizumi would show up with his collar askew and his shirttails hanging out of his pants or whatever.

Konoha opens the door. He scowls immediately. Iwaizumi frowns, but then he remembers that he’s supposed to be making nice with Konoha.

“Hey,” he says, trying to smile.

“What do you want,” Konoha says.

The TV is on behind Konoha, a drama airing. Iwaizumi says, “You want to have dinner at my place?”

“Can’t.” Konoha shrugs. “Hiro-san is about to confess to Miyu-chan.”

“I’m ordering a pizza.”

“You know what, fuck Hiro-san and his tsundere ass and the confession he should’ve made weeks ago.” Konoha grabs his remote and switches the TV off. “Alright, let’s go.”

He follows Iwaizumi to the apartment. Iwaizumi has a moment of regret when he switches his lights on and sees how messy the place is, and that his Godzilla and the Hulk figures are out on his desk balancing a post-it on which he’s written: “You can do it!!!” But friendships can sometimes become stronger after embarrassing exposures like this.

“Cool,” Konoha says, snapping a photo of Iwaizumi’s desk.

“You better not post that anywhere,” Iwaizumi says.

“I promise it’ll be for my eyes only, until just the right time when posting it will cause you a maximum amount of embarrassment,” Konoha says solemnly.

“Was that a joke?” Iwaizumi reaches out to grab the phone.

Konoha laughs as he moves back. “It was,” he says. “I wouldn’t do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I’m not that kinda guy.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re not half bad.”

Konoha smiles. “Hey, thanks.” He sits down at the desk. “Let’s order that pizza, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi reaches for the laptop, and then he stops. Since he’s said something heartfelt already, it’s best to power on ahead. Clear the air.

He says, “Also, Konoha, I’m not the kind of ace you think I am. I fucked up in my last high school match, and my team lost. But I’m trying to get better. You’re a fantastic wing spiker, with the kind of technique and game sense that I need to have. I’m glad we’re on the same team. I’m sorry about what I said in the gym. It’s none of my business whether you complete things or not. Actually, I think it’s cool that you’re willing to try out so many things. Who cares about being a master of anything? A jack is what you need when you’re in a pinch.”

There, he’s said everything he wanted to say. Iwaizumi folds his arms. Now it’s up to Konoha to fix the rest.

Konoha raises his eyebrows. “Whoa!” he says. “Damn, you really know how to make a guy feel good, Iwaizumi.” 

He laughs too, an uneasy sound. He leans back in the chair. And then he stands up abruptly, almost knocking the chair over, and kisses Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi grabs the front of Konoha’s shirt, almost reflexively. He squeezes the shirt as he kisses Konoha back. Konoha puts one hand against Iwaizumi’s neck, and then he shifts it up, grips the hair at the back of Iwaizumi’s head.

“That’s what you wanted me to do, isn’t it,” Konoha murmurs against Iwaizumi’s mouth. “At the gym. Both gyms.”

“Yes,” Iwaizumi says, and then he presses Konoha up against the wall. 

He wonders, belatedly, whether he should’ve said something before this, like “I like you,” a proper confession, but Konoha doesn’t seem to mind. He’s sliding his long fingers into the front of Iwaizumi’s pants, smiling. He is saying, “Good, because that’s what I wanted too. But I wasn’t one hundred percent sure you wanted it, so I thought I’d leave it up to you. Hey, I think I’ll put that nickname to good use now and _jack_ you off. How about it?” 

Iwaizumi spreads his legs a bit, says, “Get to work, Konoha.”

***

They eat pizza later that night, the two of them sitting on Iwaizumi’s floor. Konoha is wearing a pair of Iwaizumi’s shorts. It’s a bit loose around his waist. Iwaizumi has put on a pair of old pajama bottoms and a tank top. The outfit is the opposite of sexy, but Konoha seems to appreciate it, judging by how many times he’s casually touched Iwaizumi’s biceps in the past hour. 

After they’re done with the pizza, Konoha says, “Thanks for the dinner and for getting me off, Iwaizumi.”

“No problem,” Iwaizumi says. He was much clumsier about it than Konoha was, but the important thing is that Konoha liked it, had kind of slumped against him afterwards, breathing heavily against his neck. The memory of it, and of earlier, Konoha’s fingers around his dick, makes Iwaizumi want to go for another round right away.

Konoha asks, “Want to do it again tomorrow?”

Iwaizumi tries not to sound too eager as he says, “I’m not buying another pizza tomorrow, but we can do the other thing.”

Konoha smiles. “Sounds good,” he says. 

At the door, he says, “You were right in a way though, Iwaizumi. It wouldn’t hurt to put more effort into a few select things instead of trying to learn everything. From now on, I’m going to work on building up my strength!” Konoha flexes his right arm. “We have matches to win, right? I’m glad you’re here to keep me on track.”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi says, “but that’s not what I’m here to do.”

“Yeah, it’s probably better that way, in the long run.” Konoha curls one hand around Iwaizumi’s nape. “See you tomorrow.”

Iwaizumi says, “Goodnight,” and he kisses Konoha one more time before closing the door behind him. 

It’s too warm in the room, so Iwaizumi goes over to the window to let in some air. When he catches his reflection in the glass, he pauses, startled by the expression on his face. Almost blissful, his eyebrows relaxed, the corners of his mouth turned up. 

Probably because of what he and Konoha did earlier. Probably because he is looking forward to tomorrow, to hanging out with Konoha again. He’s happy to be where he is for the first time in many weeks.

Iwaizumi opens the window, leans out, and breathes in the late spring air.


End file.
